Nearing Feynan Eco-lodge after a full day's hike, all I could think of was kicking off my walking boots and flopping on to a bed. But Nabil Tarazi, the lodge's new manager, had other ideas. As my mum and I trudged up the dusty path that led to the lodge, he came speeding up in his 4x4 to warn us not to arrive at Feynan before nightfall.

"It's much better to see it first in the dark," he said. "There's no electricity, so at night we light it by candles – it is magical." In the meantime, he suggested, we should watch the sunset. A short spin up a rough road took us past several Bedouin tents, long oblongs of thick blankets stitched together, patrolled by a rabble of goats and barefoot children.

Like most guests we had hiked down to Feynan from Dana Guesthouse, another eco-lodge that sits at the top of the Wadi Dana canyon in the Dana Biosphere Reserve. Both are operated by the Royal Society for the Conservation of Nature (RSCN), an NGO dedicated to the conservation of Jordan's natural resources. It operates six national parks, five of which offer green accommodation.

Gemma finds remnants of Roman pottery near Feynan Lodge PR

Feynan is arguably the most eco-friendly of the RSCN lodges, entirely solar-powered, with natural ventilation, and all water coming from a local spring – plastic bottles are banned. To save having to power a fridge to chill meat, it's also vegetarian, and alcohol-free, to be culturally sensitive.

Nabil was right about arriving after dark. The sight of the lodge on our return from watching the sun set was jaw-dropping. Illuminated only by stars and flickering flames, it looked as impenetrable as the crusader forts we had visited all over Jordan, with similar slit windows and a heavy wooden door, decorated with dozens of ornate knockers.

We crept like thieves through shadowy communal areas hung with Bedouin rugs. The lodge is centred around a courtyard full of potted trees from which wrought-iron staircases curl up to a roof terrace, where piles of cushions and blankets wait for stargazers. Our room (there are 26) was huge, with roughly plastered cream walls, goatskin stools, a double and a single bed swathed in white netting, and candles in mirrored cornices.

The lack of alcohol (it is not served although you can bring your own), and having no light to read by, could annoy some guests (although head torches are available), but the fact that the lodge is vegetarian shouldn't disappoint anybody. Dinner was a fantastic spread of Jordanian staples: flatbread, tahini, yoghurt sauce and salads, with delicious veggie stews and rice dishes, hibiscus juice to drink and amazing, sticky desserts. Afterwards local Bedouin musicians played spellbinding folk music by the fire.

Creating a source of income for local people that doesn't conflict with their traditional way of life is one of the primary aims of the RSCN. Bedouin who have lived in the area for centuries are employed from managerial level down, taxi-ing guests by 4x4 from the main road several miles away, working as guides and staffing the hotel. Unusually for Jordan, this includes women – this is a country where strict traditional values still hold true, particularly in rural areas. This has to be sensitively managed, and involves much discussion and education within the community. Feynan has a woman on its team of hotel staff, and all over Jordan, women make crafts such as soap, silver and goatskin products to sell in the RSCN lodge shops.

Mohammed, the wonderful local guide who had led us down the canyon from Dana the previous day, showing us birds and wildlife and the plants the Bedouin used to make shampoo or help diabetes, told us how tourism has improved the lives of his family. Pointing out the caves he had grown up in, and high rocky pinnacles where he'd herded the family's goats from the age of eight, he said: "Living here was really not easy. It is a life very close to death, with many big challenges."

The next day Mohammed took us mountain-biking around Feynan's incredible historic sites, including Roman copper mines, a reservoir and a neolithic village. Amazingly, they are left open, with no fencing, footpaths or signs to stop visitors stepping all over their walls and treasures. Something blue on the ground caught my eye at the Khirbet Feynan Roman town, and I stooped to pick up a curved piece of ceramic: "Probably a Roman bracelet," said Mohammed. Chunks of patterned pottery littered the ground, and we were asked not to take them, so easy would it have been to do so.

To encourage guests to stay for a few days, Nabil has developed adventure sports activities, including rappelling down waterfalls and rock climbing in nearby wadis, though as winter means an increased risk of flash flooding, we couldn't try those.

I asked the lodge manager, Hussein, if there was a fear that tourism would corrupt the Bedouin way of life, but he insisted not. "We don't care about money, because inside we are rich already. Tourism will never change us. Bedouin go away to the city, meet people from all over the world, but our hearts will never change."

Perhaps he wouldn't be so certain were he not working with such a sensitively managed scheme as the RSCN's.